The Real Him
by im36degrees
Summary: I always wanted more about Yitzhak in the movie so I've written my own story which focuses more on him. It talks about his past and is about his relationship with Hedwig.
1. Happy Fucking Birthday

A/N: Hello! Hopefully I will be able to get this fic out pretty quickly. I shouldn't have any problems with writer's block because I have the whole story planned out.

Just to clarify, I know that there are many different theories about Yitzhak's gender and sexuality. So, here is what Yitzhak is in this story: a man who wants to be a drag queen again. I just wanted to make that clear to avoid confusion!

Also, this story really won't fit into the plot of the movie. The situation is the same, but my fic will go in a different direction.

I do not own the following characters: Yitzhak, Hedwig, Phyllis, Schlatko, Skszp, Jacek, Krzysztof, or Tommy Gnosis.

Kansas City, Kansas

Yitzhak opened one dark brown eye, woken by the loud blare of a truck horn from somewhere outside the motel room. He surveyed the room in front of him. Jacek, as usual, was half-naked and snuggled up with some groupie. Schlatko was slumping in a chair next to his baby's portable crib, one hand still clutching a bottle full of baby formula. Curled next to one another were Skszp and Krzysztof, with Skszp's arm wrapped protectively around the bass player.

Turning over, Yitzhak stared at the sleeping face of Hedwig. _She looks so gentle when she is asleep_, thought Yitzhak. He noticed a short, dark strand of her natural hair poking out of the wig onto her forehead. Gently, Yitzhak tucked it back under the blonde wig. Hedwig hated her real hair which is why she almost never removed her wig, even when sleeping. In fact, Yitzhak himself had never seen Hedwig without one. Without knowing why, he had always had a strong desire to see Hedwig bare of any embellishments, wigless and clean-faced._ That will never happen,_ thought Yitzhak, _She doesn't care about me, not even today on my-_. Sighing, he tenderly reached out one finger and traced the features of Hedwig's face. As he traced her lips, Yitzhak desperately wanted to lean forward and brush her lips with his.

He almost did, when, suddenly, Hedwig opened her eyes. Quick as lightening, Yitzhak pulled his hand away from her face. She groaned and turned over before habitually reaching up and checking that her wig was in place.

"Where are we performing tonight?" Hedwig asked blearily, sitting up to apply makeup.

"There is a Bilgewaters on the other side of the city," Yitzhak replied monotonously before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up. He hated how Hedwig looked at him, how she saw him. He knew that she barely recognized him as something other than a set of vocals.

"Why are you in such a mood?" She asked carelessly.

"Nothing. Just-" Yitzhak paused, would she even care? "If you actually want to know, check my passport."

With that, Yitzhak got up and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Normally, Hedwig would ignore such a comment and return to putting on her makeup; however, her curiosity overcame her. Reaching for her purse, she pulled out Yitzhak's passport. Hedwig scanned it quickly:

Surname: Sertich

Given Name: Yitzhak

Nationality: Croatian

Sex: Male

Place of Birth: Zagreb, Croatia

Wondering what significance she could have missed, Hedwig looked again.

"Ah, I see, date of birth: November 26, 1965, now what is today's date?" she glanced at the calendar in her purse. It was, of course, November 26th. "Now let me see, '93-'65, that would make him- twenty-eight today." That puzzle solved, Hedwig resumed the application of her makeup. The fact that her husband's birthday was today hardly mattered to Hedwig. To be honest, she barely considered him to be her husband. "You know what you can on your birthday, Yitzhak?" she yelled in the general direction of the bathroom. "You can fuckin' sing and then fuckin' mope just like you do every day!"

From inside the bathroom came a thud as Yitzhak knocked something over before running out of the bathroom and out of the motel room, once again slamming the door. There was a rustle as Yitzhak slid down the wall outside the room. This was followed by the sound of muffled crying. The door slam, of course, woke Schlatko's baby, who wailed her discontent to the entire band as they groggily woke up. Jacek and his anonymous groupie got up and moseyed out, nuzzling each other's necks. Schlatko woke with a jerk and picked up his daughter, plugging her mouth with the bottle of formula. Krzysztof woke with a small yelp and looked around nervously before Skszp wrapped his arm around tighter and whispered soothingly into Krzysztof's ear. Phyllis suddenly marched into the motel room, pushing Jacek and his groupie in front.

"Okay, people, we have a lot to do today, we need to practice in the parking lot for the show tonight, then we need to get our equipment to Bilgewaters," said Phyllis authoritively. "That means. We. All. Need. To. Focus."She emphasized each word with a clap. "Which means that you-" she stabbed a finger at Jacek, "-cannot be sneaking off with little miss brunette over here, is that clear?" Without waiting for a reply, Phyllis grabbed the groupie and shoved her out the door. "That's right, missie, keep walkin'. No, don't think you can hide behind the dumpster, go! Now can everyone start to get ready for practice in the parking lot?"

After a bit of incoherent mumbling, the band filtered out, Jacek still sulking and Schlatko bottle-feeding the baby. Phyllis turned to Hedwig.

"Now, Hedvig, I didn't want to ask in front of the band, but why is Yitzhak outside crying his eyes out?"

"I really don't know, Phyllis, he's _so_ moody," Hedwig replied. "He'd better pull together because we are performing tonight, mental breakdown or not."

"Well, I'm sure he's fine, I just wanted to make sure you didn't, you know, say anything to him," said Phyllis carefully. "Because you can be a little, well, harsh sometimes."

"Phyllis, I didn't say anything alright!" Hedwig snapped. She was getting irritated with the issue. "Look, I'll talk to him before we go over to the parking lot, okay?"

"Thank you so much, Hedvig, it just makes things so much easier when everyone's happy," Phyllis said gratefully. With that matter solved, hopefully, Phyllis left the room and began yelling at Jacek as he tried to sneak away. "Where do you thing you're goin', mister? Don't think I don't know what's on your mind! I may be American, but I'm not stupid!"

Hedwig sighed and put down her blush brush. She'd better get this delt with. Though it pained her to admit it, Yitzhak was an incredible singer and a valuable addition to her band. To lose him because of some insignificant mood swing would be extremely pointless. She stuck her head out the door. The band was already heading towards the empty parking lot, loaded down with instruments. Yitzhak had not moved. He had his knees drawn up and had his head buried in them. The only sign of movement was the slight shuddering of his shoulders as he continued to sob soundlessly.

"Yitzhak, could I talk to you for a minute," Hedwig asked in the least irritated voice she could muster. Yitzhak's head jerked up.

"Wha- oh, yes, Hedwig," Yitzhak said morosely. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, smearing tears across his face. He followed Hedwig into the room. She turned to face him.

"I don't know if I offended you or something, Yitzhak, but get over it," she said harshly. "God, there's no wonder that I don't love you. I don't even like you. You're always either sulking for no reason or staring at me like a love-sick puppy. Maybe if you spent more time concentrating on the rest of us and less time on yourself, you would actually _do_ something with your life!" Without meaning to, Hedwig's voice had risen. At this point, she didn't even care. As usual, she was venting all of her pent-up frustration on Yitzhak. She stared at Yitzhak, waiting for him to disolve into tears again. Instead, his head bowed momentarily. When he looked at her again, there was something different in his eyes, a blank, emotionless resolution. If Hedwig had been looking, she might have noticed; however, as usual, she ignored Yitzhak. Turning on her heel, she went out the door and headed over to the rest of the band. Phyllis saw her and asked quietly,

"Did you talk to him?" Hedwig, without a trace of guilt, replied,

"Yeah, I did, I don't know what his problem was, but he stopped crying, anyway." Phyllis smiled in relief. She then looked over Hedwig's shoulder.

"Are you sure he's okay, because I think he's still in the motel room." Hedwig looked back and cursed. Yitzhak was being so difficult! She marched back over to the room, intent on getting Yitzhak out of that room and in front of the microphone. Reaching the slightly ajar door, Hedwig moved to go inside. Then, seeing Yitzhak sitting on the bed, instead leaned closer to the door, peering through the gap. What she saw made her gasp. Yitzhak was once again crying, but he had rolled up his sleeves and was staring at the blade of a small knife. He was talking quietly to himself, and Hedwig had to lean in closer to hear what he was saying.

"I can't-take this anymore," he sobbed quietly. "I married her to get out of hell, and n-now I'd rather be there than with her." Hedwig realized with a jolt that the "her" was herself. Her distraught husband continued his soliloquy. "God, how I hate her. But, God, I love her. She hates me! She fuckin' hates me!" He took a deep sigh and said, more calmly, "It's better this way. It will be better. No more hurt, no more pain, no more Hedwig. And for my beautiful, talented wife, no more sulking husband. It is time to end it all." Hedwig realized that she had to do something. Though she had become a cold uncaring person, it was not in her to let someone kill themselves. Taking a step backwards, she grabbed the doorhandle and thrust open the door. Yitzhak's head snapped up, his hand whipping the knife into his bag.

"Yitzhak, I-" she stopped, deciding against telling Yitzhak what she had seen and heard. "I just wanted to apologize for what I said earlier." Yitzhak stared at her. Hedwig went over to him and said softly, "I didn't think about your feelings." Bending over, she kissed Yitzhak, long and sweetly. When she stood up again, Yitzhak was looking at her in a very confused way. Apparently he decided the best response was to get ready for band practice and head over to the door. On the way out, he stopped and looked at Hedwig. Cautiously, he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Hedwig's. As soon as Yitzhak left, Hedwig collapsed onto the bed. Until now, she hadn't realized the effect her treatment had had on Yitzhak. It wasn't that she had prdeviously been unaware of her abuse, it was just that she hadn't cared about the emotions of her husband. Now she realized that something had to be done. One kiss and an apology were not enough to fix the problem she had created in her daily abuse.

Yay! My first chapter.

Another note to lessen confusion: to make it easier to understand Hedwig will always be "she" and Yitzhak will always be "he". My next chapter should be up fairly quickly.


	2. Life in Croatia

Huzzah! A second chapter! I wonder if you guys need prompting or something but **_PLEASE REVIEW! IF YOU DON'T, MY SELF ESTEEM WILL BE SEVERELY DAMAGED AND I MIGHT STOP WRITING!_** Also, I just enabled anonymous reviews so I'm sorry if you previously were not able to review!

Previously: Now Hedwig realized that something had to be done. One kiss and an apology were not enough to fix the problem she had created in her daily abuse.

The first order of business was to get rid of the knife. Hedwig held very strong feelings about cutting as she herself had tried to slit her wrists after Luther had left her. Remembering her own feelings of despair and agony, Hedwig could not believe that she had caused similar feelings in someone else. Reaching into Yitzhak's black duffel, she reached around until her fingers closed around the small switchblade. After chucking it out of the motel window, Hedwig turned back to the bag, wanting to find something to help her save her husband. Once she pulled out a small pile of clothing, Hedwig spotted a simple spiral notebook shoved into the bottom of the bag.

She opened it, hoping it might be a journal, a key to Yitzhak's thoughts. A gasp escaped her lips. The page was a delicate, detailed sketch of herself. Hedwig studied it closely, realizing that Yitzhak must have taken hours or days to create such a wonderful piece. She turned the page, and the next one, and the next one. Each page was covered in more drawings of Hedwig. Some were still portraits, others, of Hedwig performing. Turning one more page, she saw the whole theme of the pictures change. New sketches, still of Hedwig, decorated the page, but these were harsher pictures: Hedwig clutching a bottle of liqueur, Hedwig taking a drag on a cigarette. The last, and possibly most disturbing, was also of Hedwig. She was standing, yelling at Yitzhak who was on his knees, wrapped in a chain which Hedwig held firmly in one hand.

"Is that how I treat him?" Hedwig asked herself. "Like a slave?" So full of emotion was she that Hedwig was barely able to turn the page. But she forced herself, needing to know more. Sighing in relief, Hedwig surveyed a page of, not drawings, but music. _He composes music?_ she thought. The song was perfect for The Angry Inch, she realized. It had guitar, bass, main vocals, and backup vocals. She read through the music quickly, humming the tune to herself. To her surprise, there was a good flow and rhythm to the song.

Suddenly, Hedwig realized one way she could help Yitzhak out of the deadly mind set she had put him in. She could use this song in the performance tonight- or better yet, _Yitzhak_ could sing the song himself. After all, the vocals were a bit too high for Hedwig to hit comfortably. _But how to get the band comfortable with the song without him knowing? _Hedwig thought for a minute, stumped. _Well, I could- I know Phyllis could handle them- he'd probably enjoy- I could try to talk to-._ Her mind made up, Hedwig tucked the notebook into her jacket pocket. She headed out the motel door and over to where Phyllis was attempting to get the band to play a song.

Unfortunately, Phyllis seemed unable to get her point across to the band members. As Hedwig walked over, she saw what was happening. Using their favorite method, the Slavic musicians were trying to make Phyllis as frustrated as possible. Each band member was from a different Eastern European country and pretended that they could not understand each other or Phyllis. This, of course, was true: Schlatko was from the old USSR, Jacek was from Yugoslavia, Skszp was native to Poland, and Krzysztof was from the Czech Republic. They all, of course, could communicate perfectly with each other and Phyllis if necessary. However, Phyllis didn't know this. Each time she counted off to begin a song, each musician would play a different song. Hedwig decided to intervene when a peeved Phyllis attempted sign language to the amused men.

"Phyllis, can I talk to you quickly?" Hedwig called. Phyllis turned her head. It was clear she was close to giving up on sign language.

"Sure Hedvig, and maybe you can try to tell these guys what to do? I can't seem to bridge the language gap." Behind Phyllis, the band members were bent double, shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Phyllis, it's about Yitzhak," Hedwig began. "You see, when I went back to get him, I saw-" Hedwig broke off, nervous, wondering if Phyllis would judge her. "I saw him try to kill himself," she finished quickly.

"_What!_" Phyllis whispered frantically. "Did you stop him, is he okay?" she glanced over to where Yitzhak was standing, slightly off to the side of the other musicians. He still had that frighteningly empty and quiet look in his face.

"Don't worry, I interrupted him, but something needs to be done, no-" Hedwig put her hand up, "Don't worry, I know what to do. I'll take him out for the day, talk to him, try to fix what's wrong. While I'm gone, I want you to get the band working on this for tonight's performance." She pulled out the notebook, opening to Yitzhak's song. "Don't worry about getting them to understand, tell them it's for Yitzhak and they won't have a problem understanding you."

Phyllis looked at Hedwig, and she looked both surprised and glad. "You really want to help him don't you, Hedvig?" Hedwig nodded, unsure of Phyllis's motive. To her surprise, Phyllis hugged her, tightly, and whispered, "Good luck."

Hedwig approached Yitzhak, unsure what to say. Finally, she relied on her usual method.

"Yitzhak. Come with me." She said authoritively. Yitzhak looked up warily. Impatient and nervous, Hedwig grabbed him by one sleeve and pulled him to the beat-up old van the Angry Inch traveled in. Behind them, the rest of the band were trying to get past Phyllis, wanting to know what was going to be done to Yitzhak.

"Vhere is that jedza taking Yitzhak?" Skszp demanded of Phyllis. None of the members seemed willing to trust Hedwig's motives. Finally, Phyllis pulled Skszp to one side and whispered hurriedly in his ear, waving the notebook in his face. Straightening up, Skszp returned to the rest of the band, a grin on his face. He quickly explained to the other men who responded with grins of glee and relief.

Meanwhile, Hedwig put the van into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. Beside her, Yitzhak was sitting still as stone, unsure what Hedwig planned to do with him. _Oh god, where is she taking me_, Yitzhak thought frantically. _I don't want to live, but I don't want her to kick me out of the band._ His worst fears seemed confirmed when the van pulled into the driveway of a diner. _Is she going to leave me? _As Hedwig grabbed her purse and climbed out of the van, Yitzhak caught hold of her sleeve. That was the first movement Hedwig had seen from Yitzhak for the whole drive.

"We're here, Yitzhak," said Hedwig brusquely, though her harshness was caused from trepidation. Then, realizing that Yitzhak had no idea what they were doing, decided to enlighten him. "Yitzhak, it's okay, we're just going to have lunch here." Hedwig was pleased to see that, as Yitzhak looked more confused, he also looked less empty and fatalistic.

Once they were finally seated in a booth and had ordered, Yitzhak looked at Hedwig,

"Why?" he asked simply. Hedwig thought how to answer the question. Finally, she just replied,

"It's your birthday, shouldn't I?" Yitzhak's eyes narrowed. He remained silent as the waitress served their food. Finally he spoke,

"You saw me didn't you? Before you came in, you watched me." Yitzhak began looking more angry and less suicidal. He looked, Hedwig realized, how he looked during band performances.

"I did Yitzhak, but I want to know _why_ you would try to kill yourself," she tried to explain, knowing she had to be careful. It would not take much for Yitzhak to get up and leave, and, for all Hedwig knew, he had another knife. "No- I know, it was because of me, but I want to know more about you. Tell me about your life, Yitzhak," she pleaded. For a few minutes, Yitzhak just sat there, withdrawn and thinking. Finally, he looked straight at Hedwig and began.

" I was born in Zagreb. My family never had much money, even by Croatian standards. My majka was alcoholic, I never saw her without a bottle of something in her hand. My predak was a religious, very devout Roman Catholic. For the first eight years of my life I grew up believing that, no matter what I did, I was going to go to Hell. Thank God for my sister, Mirsada. She was eight years older than me, knew she had to get out of our parents house. She got married at sixteen." For a moment, Yitzhak paused, recollecting these long forgotten memories. "She barely knew her husband, but he had a job, a house, good food. I wanted her to take me, so badly. I didn't know how to survive without her. She was always the one to fulfill any motherly duties towards me and always protected me from the majority of my father's fatalistic sermons. Before she left, she told me one thing I will never forget. She bent down and said, 'Dijete, don't ever be treated less than the wonderful person you are. There is someone out there who will love you, as if you and they are one. Find that person, Yitzhak.' After that she left and I didn't see her for five years. Her husband lived on the other side of the capital, and she soon had children to take care of. I saw her agin, when I was thirteen, at- at- her funeral. Childbirth killed her. She was so tired and worn out looking. I couldn't-"

Yitzhak broke off, sobbing heavily. Hedwig sat there helpless. Thinking that to be the end of his story, she reached out to him, in comfort. Straightening up again, Yitzhak pushed her away and continued,

"My father threw me out when I turned seventeen. I had asked him if men could be attracted to other men and he became enraged. Said that God had cursed him with a sodomite son and screamed at me to get myself and my Satanic ways out of his house. At first, I felt free. No longer would I have to rely on him for food and I would never have to watch my mother stumble around with a hangover again. Soon, too soon, I realized that I had no way to survive. I decided to go downtown because I figured it would be easier. I spent five years homeless, doing anything to get food. One night, I saw a woman, outside a bar. She was so pretty and I didn't know why. I had never felt any attraction to women. After a few minutes, I realized that she was a man, a drag queen. This desire filled me to do that, to be like her. I had never seen anyone look pretty before and now _I_ wanted to feel beautiful.

"I got a job at that bar as a singer, Krystal Nacht. I don't know how because I had only ever sang in my father's church chorus. But when I put that wig on for the first time, I felt so beautiful. It filled me with this confidence I had never known before. I actually enjoyed singing; I discovered this love of music, of songs. I found an apartment too, all the drag queens put together their wages and rented an apartment. Life seemed like it might go alright. And it did, for a while." Yitzhak paused, remembering how his life changed, again.

"I remember the first time it happened. I was twenty-three and was heading to the apartment, alone for once because the other queens decided to stay late and have a drink. A man came out of an alley and grabbed me. He reeked of alcohol and smoke. He-" Yitzhak stopped taking a deep breath and said,

"He raped me. Then he just left me there, curled in the alley. I felt so used, so disgusting. Finally, I forced myself to get up and head to the apartment. I never told anyone about what happened. No one would have cared. That is life in Zagreb. I had to ignore it and move on. I was a loner and ended up walking by myself many times. Sometimes I was raped, sometimes I wasn't. Sometimes they left money, sometimes they didn't. My life was a game of chance. My only solace was singing. I got very good. One night, a different bar was having a Barbara Streisand singing competition. I could get a little money and, of course, I could sing. Before I went on, I was very nervous. Then I turned around and saw- you. I knew who you were from a poster advertising one of your performances. I knew you were had an American nationality. I realized that I needed to get out of Croatia. I could not spend one more night as Krystal Nacht, bartop singer. After I sang, I found you and proposed. I remember what I said to you: 'Please get me out of this living hell.'

A/N: I'm so proud of myself! I have another chapter out. Once again **_PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	3. Mental Collapse

Thank you so much, Lela and Jacoco! I am FINALLY updating. Now that my camp is done, updates may be more consistant. Also, question for the critics: do you think Hedwig had too big a character change between ch.'s one and two? She goes from bitter to caring really, really fast. Also, I made a small mistake with dates. I didn't realize that Hedwig met Yitzhak in Croatia in 1998 so the current year would actually be around 2000.

Previously: After I sang, I found you and proposed. I remember what I said to you: 'Please get me out of this living hell.

Hedwig stared at Yitzhak, in shock. How could she never have known? To spend every night expecting to be raped was the most awful thing she had ever heard. Hedwig paused, struck by a terrible thought. She remembered every night she had had sex with Yitzhak. Never once had it been an intimate act. Always Hedwig had used Yitzhak, just like those men. She sat back, at loss for words. Now she could understand Yitzhak's suicidal attempts. She had been his hope, his chance for a new life, and what she had given him was no better than how he had been treated in Croatia. A surge of nausea filled Hedwig. She rushed from the table and into the bathroom.

After throwing up her entire lunch, Hedwig stared at herself in the mirror, nails gripping the sink, sucking a mint. _How have I become this person,_ she asked herself. _This is not who I planned on being, ever._ She stared into her reflection, trying to find a trace of the innocent boy who had fallen in love with Luther. Hansel Schmidt had been such a sweet, simple person. Hedwig could not actually remember _being_ the person she had once been. Over the years she had let her own hurts and sufferings change her so much that she had destroyed someone. Tears began to flow from Hedwig's eyes, the first in over five years. The first since Tommy had left her. She couldn't hold any of it in anymore. There was so much pain she had never accepted and recovered from, only pushed away. Hedwig sank slowly to the floor, her chest so tight with grief that she could barely breathe. Everything that had ever caused her suffering was rushing at her from all sides of her mind. Oblivious to her surroundings, Hedwig began yelling, agonizing, hoarse cries.

"Why Luther why did you leave what did I do wrong was he prettier than me why did the surgery go wrong I didn't want it Mother why did you agree with him no I don't want to be a prostitute does he love me at all what are you afraid of why can't you love me all of me it's all I have it's not my fault no you didn't really leave you didn't take the music you love me you wouldn't do that no no no no I won't believe it it's not true never you wouldn't ever hurt me I'm a terrible person he wants to die I want to die there's nothing I can do everyone hates me nothing is right-" Hedwig went on, unaware that someone was kneeling next to her on the floor, picking her up. Arms wrapped around her, holding her while rocking slowly back and forth. Gradually, Hedwig's ramblings slowed and, eventually, stopped. Her breathing slowed down and the tremors through her body ceased. She shifted slightly, turning her head, only to see that Yitzhak was holding her. She sat upright, her vision fading temporarily from the resulting headrush. Hedwig stared at Yitzhak, trying to understand her own mind. She felt so vulnerable and weak, having been pushed through so many painful memories so quickly.

"Are- are you alright?" Yitzhak asked quietly. Then nervously added, "I'm sorry I came in, but- you were yelling and crying, and you don't ever cry and I-I thought you were hurt or- or something." He looked down at the floor, abashed. "I made a mistake, I shouldn't have come in, I'm sorry. You didn't need me, no one does." He got up to leave, but, as he did, Hedwig grapped the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him back down. She looked at him, the only person who had never hurt her in some way. Hedwig reached out to him, tentatively, as if expecting him to disappear, then grabbed him in a fierce hug. Through that hug, she expressed so much. Her gratitude, her apology, her sorrow all fixed into one tight embrace.

"I am so sorry Yitzhak," she whispered into his ear. "Oh God, I can't even say how much I want to fix everything. What has happened to you, what I've done to you, I wish it would all just go away." Somehow, she did not cry, it was if all her tears had been spent only a few minutes ago; however, her voice was getting faster, as she became hysterical. "And thank you, after all I've done to you, you still care about me." She let go of him suddenly, reaching out to find her purse. She rifled through it, still babbling at a now incoherant rate. Then she pulled something out of her purse and shoved it into Yitzhak's hand. He looked down, unsure of what it was. Then his eyes widened in shock, realizing what he was holding. Clutched in his hand was his passport. The one possession he owned that had any importance to him. She had given it to him, let him have the one thing that prevented him from running away.

Yitzhak looked at Hedwig, aware that she was not entirely in her right mind right then. She may not actually want him to have it.

"Hedwig, I don't think you really want to give me this. You don't know what you are saying." Speaking these words went against everything his mind was telling him. He made to put the passport back in her purse. Hedwig's hand grabbed his wrist. She took the passport from him and placed it in his jacket pocket.

"Yes, Yitzhak, I do," she said, having finally calmed down. "Please take it, I need you to take it. I can't keep it anymore." With an effort, she grabbed the sink and pulled herself off the floor. Yitzhak also stood up.

"Let's go for a walk, it will help you calm down," said Yitzhak gently. He knew that he shouldn't be staying, after all, he had his passport, but somewhere inside him was that strange almost obsessive love for Hedwig.

A/N: Wow! I think that was a really good chapter! I loved writing it. **_PLEASE CONTINUE REVIEWING!_**


	4. Alone, Again

Yay! Another Chapter! I'm going faster now because it will probably be hard to work on this when school starts. w00t to all my CTY friends who've reviewed! another w00t to all hedwiginabox-ers who've reviewed! w00t for all you other people too! I wish this could be a little longer, but I've set myself a time span within the story.

Previously: He knew that he shouldn't be staying, after all, he had his passport, but somewhere inside him was that strange almost obsessive love for Hedwig.

Hedwig gripped the sink and hauled herself off the bathroom floor, still weak from her collapse. Yitzhak grabbed her shoulder to steady her. She turned to him, grateful, and noticed her reflection in the mirror. The majority of her eye makeup had migrated down to her cheeks, and her lipstick was smeared to about twice its original size.

"Shit, my makeup is wrecked!" Hedwig said irritably. She grabbed a paper towel and began rubbing her face vigorously.Yitzhak took the towel out of her hand.

"You won't get it off that way, let me," Yitzhak said. Gently, he started dabbing with the paper towel at the makeup across her face. As he was working on her lips, his dabbing slowed, then stopped. Tentatively, Yitzhak leaned forward, one hand sliding along Hedwig's jaw. Realizing his intent, Hedwig responded by bringing her face closer, meeting her lips with his. _He is so shy_ Hedwig thought. Then, realizing that he probably had never really had much kissing experience, she angled her head, deepening the kiss. Yitzhak eyes flew open in surprise as Hedwig's tongue met his, but he did not break the kiss. Hedwig was remembering a similar kiss, a similar inexperience. They broke off momentarily to take a breath. Hedwig was still reminiscing.

"Oh, Tommy," she sighed, leaning forward to resume the kiss. But there was no mouth to meet hers. She opened her eyes, breaking off the flow of memories. Yitzhak had backed away, looking hurt and angry. Hedwig, having forgotten her slip of the tongue, moved forward, reaching out to him. Yitzhak only responded by backing away again. Hedwig frowned, puzzled,

"Yitzhak, what is wrong?" she asked.

"I'm not him," he replied quietly. When Hedwig's confusion remained evident, he said again, "I'm not him, I'm not Tommy, and I never will be."

"What? Yitzhak, what are you talking about?" Hedwig asked confusedly. She honestly did not know what had caused Yitzhak's reaction.

"You said it! You said his name!" Yitzhak yelled, for once letting go of his habitual fear of Hedwig. "_I_ was kissing you and you whispered _his_ name! How can you love someone who hurt you so much? Why? What is wrong with you? What is so wrong with you that you love such a-a- divovski?"

Hedwig, recognizing the Croatian word as "monster", bristled, "What the hell do you think you know about Tommy?" she screamed. "You've never met him! How can you ask why I love him? What do you know about love? All you _ever_ had for me was obsession! You don't know me, and you don't know Tommy!"

"Why, Hedwig, why chase someone who will only run away? Can't you realize that _he doesn't love you_?" Yitzhak had lowered his voice to speaking level and was gripping the door handle in one hand. "I never realized how similar we are, both striving after someone who will never care about us. But you, at some point, you deserved better." With that, he turned on his heel and left the bathroom. Hedwig stared as the door swung shut.

"I'm right," she whispered to herself. "He doesn't know about love, how could he?" She gripped her arms as if cold and began pacing the floor. "Tommy knows what he did was wrong, he didn't want to hurt me. It wasn't his fault, it was me. It was my body. He doesn't hate me, just my body." As she said these words, Hedwig realized how desperate her hopes were. She had no idea if Tommy cared about her, about what he'd done. He must have known how much he'd hurt her, how much he still hurt her by denying her existence. But Yitzhak. Yitzhak had never done anything like that. He had a right to, after all Hedwig had done to him, but he hadn't. Even more than that, he always had retained some sort of love towards Hedwig, always watching her.

"Oh God," Hedwig breathed, "He loves me, Yitzhak has always loved me. He must, after all he's been through. All this time, I've had someone who cares, someone I could have trusted and relied on." She looked up, astonishment showing as she realized how much Yitzhak must have cared. Then, panic filled her features as she realized that she didn't know where he was. She ran to the door and pulled it open. Not surprisingly, there was a large number of people staring at the bathroom from their tables. A waitress rushed over to Hedwig,

"Ah, miss- um, sir, I-I mean, um, customer, is everything all right? You see, there was a large amount of noise coming from that restroom. We heard some screaming, then a man ran in, then there was some more screaming, then the man ran back out." Hedwig, who had been scanning the restaurant for Yitzhak, suddenly turned her attention on the waitress.

"Where did the man go?" She demanded. The waitress shrank a few inches under Hedwig's forceful tone.

"Well, I-um, he went outside, and, um, just ran away," she stuttered. She seemed quite intimidated by Hedwig and was glancing about as if hoping someone would save her. However, the minute the woman finished speaking, Hedwig bolted out the door. Running out to where the van was parked, she looked around for Yitzhak. Not seeing him, she opened the car and checked inside. The interior was empty. Cursing, she glanced down the road, hoping to see him walking down it. Still, she couldn't find him. Despair began to overtake Hedwig as she realized that she might never see Yitzhak again. With every passing moment, she seemed to become aware of how much she had lost. Knowing now how much Yitzhak had cared about her, she felt an intense pain in her heart knowing that, again, someone who loved her had ran away. For the second time that day, tears began to trickle from her eyes as Hedwig was overcome by an intense hatred of herself. She hated who she was, how callously she destroyed anything beautiful and good.

A/N: Suspense! I know it's a lot of angst in a short period of time, but remember what Phyllis is back doing with the band! It's funny, originally this story was supposed to be entirely from Yitzhak's point of view. I guess Hedwig took over, like she always does.


	5. Return

A/N: Argh! I have severe writer's block! This wasn't supposed to happen! I had the story all planned out so there would be none of this creative standstill. But nooo! Hedwig and Yitzhak have completely taken over whatever I write down. They are inventing their own conversations and fights! Help me! I'm a slave to the characters existing in my head!

Yitzhak leaned against the back of the restaurant, trying to sort through the thoughts tumbling through his mind. He felt a sense of elation, remembering that he had stood up to Hedwig for the first time. However, the feeling was tinted with a sense of guilt as he thought of the anguish in Hedwig's eyes as he denounced Tommy's love for her. Until that moment, Yitzhak had not known that Hedwig's denial had run so deep. He had thought that, on some level, Hedwig must have known that Tommy had consciously chosen to hurt her and destroy their relationship.

Yitzhak slipped one had into his pocket, feeling the passport between his fingers. He was free, utterly and completely free. Where should I go? he thought. I can go anywhere, Israel, Africa, Afghanistan. Yitzhak sighed, realizing that he had absolutely no money and could not go to any of these places.

Maybe I can find a job at a karaoke bar. It'd probably be safer than the one back in Zagreb. The only thing he needed to do was get a dress, some makeup, and a razor. He remembered that all the money made by The Angry Inch was kept under the middle seat in the van. A portion of that money was his by right, after all, he was a part of the band, however grudgingly. He walked down the side of the restaurant, then peered around the front, checking to make sure Hedwig was still inside. Not seeing her, Yitzhak walked over to the van and slid open the back door. He recoiled in surprise, seeing Hedwig lying on the middle seat, motionless. At first, his thoughts were ones of horror, Moj bozanstvo, is she dead? The thought stunned Yitzhak. He was scared to even think such a thing.

Yitzhak reached out to stroke Hedwig's face. To his astonishment, she moved, turning over to look at him. Her eyes were red, and her wig was askew. At the sight of Yitzhak, her eyes widened.

"Yitzhak?" she sat up quickly. "You came back." The statement was phrased more like a question. There was a hint of doubt at the end, as though Hedwig was unsure that he had indeed returned. Yitzhak looked at her, confused. Once again, his love for Hedwig was interfering with his liberation. He reached out, as if to brush Hedwig's cheek, but his hand suddenly changed direction, going under the seat, pulling out a small, beat-up cash box. Hedwig watched him, frozen and silent, as Yitzhak carefully counted out about a sixth of the money. It wasn't that much cash, but it was more than he had at the present. Looking at Hedwig, he put out his hand and gently re-adjusted her wig. Then, he slowly and deliberately turned to walk away.

Before he could do so, however, Hedwig reached out and clasped his arm tightly.

"Don't, Yitzhak," she pleaded. "Please don't leave. I won't be able to live with myself if you do." She glanced up at him, her eyes wide and pleading for the first time Yitzhak could remember.

"I will leave, Hedwig," he said firmly. "I want to be myself again, and you won't allow that if I stay." He tried to remove Hedwig's hand from his arm, but her grip was strong.

"Look, just- just come back tonight. You can decide if you want to leave tomorrow and this way you'll be able to get your stuff and say your goodbyes to Skszp and the others," Hedwig begged. She was desperately hoping that something would happen between now and tomorrow that would stop Yitzhak from leaving.

Yitzhak was unsure of what to do. He wanted to leave now, before his resolve failed him, but, on the other hand, he did need to get his bag. He needed the music in his journal, and the last thing he wanted was for Hedwig to see the drawings in it. And anyway, he did want to see Skszp, Jacek, Krzysztof, and Schlatko before he left.

Hedwig waited tensely, for what seemed like an eternity, as Yitzhak remained deep in thought. She finally saw the resolve in his eyes back down as he sighed and placed the money back in the cash box. He climbed into the passenger seat of the van, and Hedwig climbed up into the driver's seat. As they pulled out onto the road, Yitzhak was thinking back, recollecting memories which had been stirred up by the events that day.

_"You see, don't you Yitzhak?" his father said ominously. "Why we are all condemned to suffer?"_

_"Yes, Predak," the young boy answered. He looked about seven and was small for his age. His father growled and paced the floor of the small, cramped room, unsatisfied with his son's answer._

_"WHY!" he yelled, inches from the boy's face. "Why must all of humanity suffer?"_

_"B-because of- Eve," Yitzhak squeaked, terrified. "Because w-women are-are temptresses and- and the mothers of Original Sin."_

_His father grunted his satisfaction and resumed his pacing. Before he could ask another question, the boy asked one of his own._

_"P-predak, if women are so terrible, why are they so much prettier than men?" The moment these words left his lips, Yitzhak regretted them sorely. His father turned quickly and faced his son. _

_"Do not ask such devious questions!" he roared. "Only Satan would place such a thought in your mind!" Yitzhak's eyes widened in fear._

_"N-no, it wasn't, please, no!" he cried as his father slapped him hard enough to knock him down. Blow upon blow rained down on the small child's body as his father demonstrated his fury._

Yitzhak shuddered, remembering his brutal father. That hadn't been the worse beating his father had set on him. It had gotten much worse.

_It was the same small room, a little shabbier and a little older. A grizzled man was reading the Bible in a corner. A young man walked into the room. He was about sixteen, was still small for his age, and had long-ish brown hair._

_"Predak?" Yitzhak asked nervously. The man in the corner grunted as he turned a page. "Predak, I have a question for you. T-today when I was working, I-I saw this man. He was a strankinja, a foreigner, and he gave me the strangest feeling."_

_On this statement, the man turned his gaze from his book onto his son, an indecipherable expression on his worn features. Yitzhak took this as permission to continue,_

_"It-it was like the feeling you told me to be wary of near women. You said it was part of Satan's tricks and an attempt to make us sin. B-but this feeling wasn't about a woman, it was about a man. S-so what does that mean?" Yitzhak concluded._

_In response, Yitzhak's father rose slowly to his feet. A look came into his eyes that was not unfamiliar to Yitzhak. He took a step away from his father._

_"This can only mean one thing," Gosp. Sertich (Mr. Sertich) said. He continued walking towards his son, increasing his pace. "You see, Yitzhak, when God created humanity, there was only one thing worse than a woman. And that, was a sodomite!" he roared suddenly, sending his hand crashing down on his son. Yitzhak fell heavily, before scrambling away from his father. Confusion covered his face._

_"B-but Predak, I don't understand what is a-a sodomite?" Yitzhak cried. His father only continued his assault._

_"Get out of my house! Leave this place! 'Dies irae, dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla, Teste David cum sibylla, Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando Judex est venturus!" Gosp. Sertich continued his attack until his son was forced to flee out the door and onto the streets._

Yitzhak was jerked out of his reveries as the van hit a bump. He still remembered his father's fury. Even now, it frightened him. Fate, however, rather than letting him create a life in peace, had decided to turn his new life into a living hell.

_Yitzhak walked slowly down a dark street, the wind flapping his dress. In his hand, he clutched his first salary, sixteen worn Kunas. He was full of elation, glad that his life seemed to be taking a turn for the better. Finally being able to express himself through singing had made a remarkable change in his mentality. By far, Krystal Nacht was a much happier person than Yitzhak Sertich had ever been. He turned down an alley, intending to take a shortcut back to the room he shared with the other singers.He was suddenly slammed against the alley wall as a man grabbed him from behind. Yitzhak could smell the man's thick, disgusting breath. _

_"Hier ist, was ich gefunden habe," the man hissed in German. Though Yitzhak did not speak any German, he knew this man's intent. However, no matter how much Yitzhak struggled, he could not break free. Something came out of the man's mouth that might have been a laugh. He slammed Yitzhak up against the wall again, and then proceeded to rip his dress down the back. Yitzhak started flailing out wildly, trying anything to get away from his attacker. The man again slammed Yitzhak against the wall, creating a gash on his forehead which started to bleed. Yitzhak heard a jangling noise behind him as his attacker undid his belt._

_"Nijedan! Nijedan- ugoditi! Nijedan! Ja ću obaviti išta! Pravedan ne-"Yitzhak sobbed. Suddenly, pain he beyond anything he could imagine was filling his body. He screamed as the pain continued on. So intense was the hurt that Yitzhak tried to concentrate on something, try to distract himself from what was happening. He couldn't, the pain was just too great. After what seemed like an eternity, the man stopped and stepped away from Yitzhak, who slid down onto the ground, sobbing helplessly. As a parting gift, the man spat on Yitzhak then turned and walked down the alley, leaving him alone. _

Yitzhak was surprised how much a memory could make him feel.

A/N: Sorry it took so long! Writing the beginning was awkward so I threw in the flashbacks.

(Day of wrath, that day

Shall consume the world in ashes

As prophesied by David and the sibyl

What trembling is to be

When the Judge is come)


	6. Reflection

A/N: Hmm... more writer's block. This story will probably have two, maybe three more chapters. However, I have thought of a follow up fic which might be good. In the last chapter of this story, I'll tell you the premise for the plot and you can let me know if you approve.

Hedwig was quite confused with herself. While that emotion was not unusual, she found the contradictions brewing inside her head to be very odd. On the one hand, she had decided that Yitzhak deserved to be happy, and this definitely meant letting him leave the band to become his own person. However, she did not want him to leave. Perhaps it was just insecurity, but Hedwig couldn't bear the thought of yet another person leaving her. She tried to think of it differently, that this time, she was not being hurt or used. Yitzhak loved her, but he did not want to stay with her, she could accept that.

Trying to distract herself, Hedwig glanced over at Yitzhak. She was surprised to see that he looked on the verge of tears. She was just wondering why when she happened to glance back towards the road. Hedwig slammed the brakes, nearly hitting a car turning onto the street. After receiving a rather angry finger from the other driver, Hedwig parked by the side of the road and turned her attention back to Yitzhak. Though he had reacted to the jerk of the brakes, he still looked quite upset.

"Yitzhak?" Hedwig asked, "Are you okay?" She was worried that he might be feeling suicidal again. Yitzhak turned to her,

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just- today brought up some things that I haven't thought about in a long time." Hedwig nodded sympathetically,

"Yeah, me too, none of it's fair is it?" she said. Then she turned so her whole body was facing him. "That was one thing I could never understand about Tommy," she said suddenly. "He was always talking about Jesus and how we should all have more faith, but it just didn't make sense, you know? Look at us, neither of us did anything terrible before stuff went wrong. My wrong choice was loving someone and your's was being true to yourself. Why the hell should I believe in someone who let all _this_ happen?"

Yitzhak was silent for a moment. Finally he replied, "I don't know, after everything, you realize you end up right back where you started, in some wicked little town," he paused, and then looked at Hedwig. "But it could be worse." He leaned towards Hedwig and met his mouth with hers. She had just started to respond to his kiss when her watch beeped. She broke away and said,

"Verdammen, I forgot what time it was, we've got to get back for the gig." She turned away and started up the van. Yitzhak stared at her for a moment then slumped back into his seat. _Of course_, he though, _the gig is more important, will always be more important._ That was why he needed to go. Yitzhak didn't want to be loved only some of the time, he needed someone who wouldn't turn around and forget him when something else came up.

By the time they arrived at the motel, Phyllis and the band were ready to load up and head over to Bilgewaters. From the grin on Skszp's face, Hedwig could tell that practice for Yitzhak's song had gone well. She jumped out of the van and ran to the bathroom to fix her makeup and change her wig. For once, Hedwig chose a simpler wig over the usually flamboyant choices. This was Yitzhak's chance to shine, not hers.


	7. Fruition

A/N: Yay! Another chapter! After this one, there will probably be only two more. However, my mind is filling with plans for the sequel. Also, I do not own the song. Probably Stephen Trask or John Cameron Mitchell does. If you would like to hear the song so as to get a feel for the scene, put your email in a review and I will send you the song. If that doesn't work, I'll try to post it on my xanga.

While the band was setting up the equipment for the show, Hedwig pulled Skszp aside.

"So, did the song go alright?" Hedwig whispered, glancing in Yitzhak's direction to make sure he couldn't overhear the conversation. Skszp smiled,

"Oh, yes, Miss Hedvig, it went very well. The song is very nice, you write?" he asked. Hedwig shook her head.

"No, Yitzhak actually wrote it. It is a lovely song isn't it?" Skszp nodded and then added,

"I am very happy what you are helping Yitzhak, Hedvig. He is very cicza, quiet, and does not tell us much about him. But we know he hurts, someone hurt him a long time ago, but we don't know anything else. Also-" here Skszp paused, nervous, then added, "he is very much kochac-nienawidzic, ah, love-hate with you."

"I know," Hedwig stated simply. Skszp took this to mean that the conversation was over and resumed connecting the amps.

Finally, the band was set up and the Bilgewater's manager had given a rather aprehensive permission to start. Yitzhak was standing at his mike to the left of Hedwig. She ran over to him, brimming with exitement.

"Yitzhak, I have to go get something okay? I need you to stand in front of my mike until I get back. It'll only take a few minutes." Yitzhak looked startled by this odd request but complied to Hedwig's wish. He was still resentful over what he assumed was Hedwig's priority of the show over him. Hedwig ran off stage, which was the cue for the band to start the song.

Yitzhak jerked in surprise as the heavy sound of the music began. He looked over at Skszp to tell him that Hedwig wasn't back yet but then recognized the song. It was the one he had written. Yitzhak had no idea how the band had gotten hold of his journal, but he was terrified what would happen if Hedwig came back to this. Anxiously looking off stage for her, he saw Hedwig standing next to Phyllis, watching him. She met his gaze and blew a kiss. He stared, confused, until a dawning comprehension filled Yitzhak as he understood what Hedwig had done for him, why she must have done it for him, and he let himself fall back into the music. He broke into the lyrics with a savage joy.

_All our feelings and thoughts  
Expressed in ones and in oughts.  
In endless spiraling chains  
You can't decode or explain,  
Cause you are so analog.  
God dog I eye I god dog._

_We're the random number generation.  
We are random number generated.  
We are random numbers._

_In the regime of a solid state  
Wheels spin when you iterate.  
k is x squared minus one  
But .54321  
When x is taken times two  
That's when we're coming for you._

_We're the random number generation.  
We are random number generated.  
We are random numbers._

_Mister Little started something huge -  
Iggy Pop, Iggy Stooge.  
All the children shout out,  
"Hey! Here we are!"_

_We're the random number generation.  
We are random number generated.  
We are random numbers._

Yitzhak let the last word escape from his mouth with a sigh. He could not even begin to explain how he was feeling. There was a confused round of applause from the Hedheads and the usual irritated glances of the diners. Yitzhak didn't notice any of this however. It had been so long since he had let go so completely, let the music take him. His vision swam for a moment and Skszp, alarmed, yelled,

"Chwytają jego! Catch him!" He stepped forward to grab him, but Yitzhak waved him off, regaining his balance. Hedwig was leaning up against the wall, watching him with a satisfied look on her face. Yitzhak walked towards her and her smile grew. He looked up at her with an emotion Hedwig had never seen in his eyes before. _He's happy_, she realized. There was none of the usual uncertainty or tension which normally filled Yitzhak's features.

"Happy Birthday, liebling," Hedwig said. Yitzhak reached up to her face, whispered back,

"Thank you," before pulling Hedwig's mouth onto his. She was surprised by his boldness, but not surprised enough to not respond to his kiss, eagerly opening her mouth to his.

The band stared at the closed door, clinging onto their equipment. Hedwig kicked the door with her boot, yelling,

"Ich werde Sie ficken!" The manager, having been seriously affended by Hedwig and Yitzhak's kiss, had unceremoniously thrown the entire band out of the resteraunt. Phyllis also was having a difficult time accepting what had just happened. She was right there with Hedwig pounding on the door screaming,

"I could have your job!" In response to this, the door was thrown open, an envelope thrown at Phyllis's head, and the door slammed shut. Phyllis inspected the envelope. It contained a couple of grimy twenties. She threw her shoulders back as if that had been the purpose of her tirade and turned to face the band.

"Okay, who wants dinner?" There was a mumble of agreement from the band members. Hedwig, however, deciding that the door was not going to be kicked open, turned to Yitzhak.

"We had a pretty late lunch, you want to come back to the motel with me?" Yitzhak missed the hidden meaning completely, replying,

"I don't really care, we could- oh," Hedwig had pulled Yitzhak up against her body, close enough for him to feel her heart racing, her breath warm on his face.

"Motel- yes- sounds good," he faltered. She grinned wickedly and released her grasp on Yitzhak's body.

"Hey, Phyllis," Hedwig called. Phyllis turned. "Could you drop Yitzhak and me off at the motel? We- still need to talk about some stuff." Phyllis nodded her agreement and the band piled into the van. One way or another, the seating in the van became arranged so that Yitzhak and Hedwig were seated side by side. The entire ride back to the motel, Yitzhak could not help but be strongly aware of Hedwig's warm leg resting against his.

A/N: Hokay! So I've got this chapter up now! I'm going to start working on the next.


	8. Result

A/N: ok. so here's the next chapter. it is really tricky to write b/c I think it's an important part but I don't want it to be offensive or coarse. Also, I have finalized I think the plot for the sequel.

Yitzhak stared at Hedwig, suddenly uncomfortable. They were standing in the motel room, uncertain how to proceed. Hedwig leaned across to kiss Yitzhak, but he stopped her.

"Wait- could you- I- please, take your wig off," Yitzhak stammered. He knew that whatever did happen, he wanted, one time, to see Hedwig without her wig. Hedwig stared at him, silent. Finally, she replied,

"You can take it off." Yitzhak reached up, gently pulling the blonde wig from her head. Her short, dark hair made a startling contrast to the long, light-colored wig Yitzhak held in his hand. He stroked the wig wistfully, then placed it on the dresser. Hedwig turned away.

"I may as well take off my make-up, it looks ridiculous without the wig," she entered the bathroom, and Yitzhak could hear the sound of water running. Hedwig returned a few moments later, looking strangely bare. He was amazed at how much gentler she looked unadorned. Though much less feminine, her face seemed less harsh, more uncertain. She stood in front of Yitzhak awkwardly. Much as he had done that morning, how long ago it seemed, he reached out and gently traced the contours of Hedwig's face, his forehead, cheekbones, lips. Then, though he had not dared to that morning, Yitzhak brought his mouth to Hedwig's. The ungainliness melted away from Hedwig, as she kissed him back.

They moved slowly, each awkward for their own reasons, for both, in a way, were new to this.

_It was before, the origin of love_

Yitzhak, having never consensually had sex, was both uncertain of what to do and was also trying to keep the fear of old memories from resurfacing. Hedwig, though she had consented to sex many times, had never really experienced it on an equal playing field. Her puppy-dog affection for Luther had meant that she did what he wanted her too, knowing that even though she didn't enjoy it, Luther did. And with Tommy, well, that had never happened, no matter how much she had wanted it to.

For once, there were no worries. There was no lawsuit. There was no band. There was no Tommy. No passports. Nothing. Just them.

_We wrapped our arms around each other,  
Trying to shove ourselves back together.  
We were making love,  
Making love_

Hedwig lay next to Yitzhak, who was sleeping, his arms still wrapped round Hedwig. She had a feeling of awe as she thought of what had transpired. Yitzhak was the only person who had acknowledged her whole body. Hedwig had grown used to the disgust caused by the remains of her operation. After Tommy had reacted so awfully, she had realized that no one would ever "love the front of her". Therefore, she found it incredible that Yitzhak could and did accept her. For the umpteenth time, she wondered how she had lived with Yitzhak all these years and never actually seen him. The real him. She turned over so her body was once again facing Yitzhak, curling up to his warm body.

Yitzhak lay awake, his head filled with thoughts. Unlike Hedwig, he was not resting easy at the thought of what had happened. If anything, it had made things more difficult. The pull Yitzhak felt towards Hedwig was even stronger; however, Yitzhak wished it wasn't. He couldn't stay with Hedwig, living like this. No matter what promises she had made, Hedwig would never really let him be himself, it went against her nature. Yitzhak knew eventually he would have to leave. Hedwig rolled in her sleep, drawing herself closer to his body. Yitzhak, in turn, pulled himself closer to Hedwig. He would leave, but not yet, not now. Another day.

A/N: Hahahaha! Done! And I can't wait to get started on the next bit. Unfortunately, my friend will probably be reading this soon and I will be mocked. Oh well, she is eight hours away. Saw RENT so my little tribute was that last little sentence. weeeee!


End file.
